


Carelessness

by olivestark



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, One Night Stands, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivestark/pseuds/olivestark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Eponine faints in a street in the pouring rain, she wakes up in the apartment of a stranger</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carelessness

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've posted of my writing anywhere so pls don't hate me.  
> Canon era.

The rain poured, hard and merciless. It soaked and stuck clothes to the skin, making young Eponine itch her sodden arms as she wandered. Her father expected her home having just delivered another letter for him. But she wasn’t bothered. She didn’t care where she was going. She didn’t know.  
Her loneliness crept into her mind and her body; she fought back useless tears that were silly to cry. Her nails dugs in to her frail arm furiously. She has no one, who loved her, or cared for her well being. She was a scum of the street and she wished she meant something to someone.  
All she’d eaten this week was half a loaf of bread. Her stomach protested, loudly and painfully. She clutched her abdomen as if it would make a difference, there wasn’t much of her there anyway, her ribs were quite predominant these days. She stumbled on a pebble that got her head swimming. Please not again, She pleaded with her body. Not in public, not in the cold. But her body wasn’t listening.  
As stable and as quick as she could, she found an alleyway to shelter in, so not to draw attention fainting in the main road. The lights began to blend around her as she clung onto the flat brick wall. She slammed against it and slid to the floor, breathless, freezing, drowning… she didn’t even try to fight the black flooding her vision as she passed out.

* * *

She woke a few hours later and looked around. It wasn’t cold, damp, dirty, and stiff. She wasn’t in an alleyway or a street or the shack she called ‘home’. She had a blanket around her and was in a large armchair, the fire next to her glowed an orange with soothed her skin. She was damp and still in itching uncomfortable clothes. The apartment only had three other rooms. She didn’t recognize this place…  
Confused and still in a slight daze, she stood up, too quickly, and immediately lost her balance. 

“Sit down for a while longer, you need some rest.”

A young man with a flop of curly dark hair and tired drinkers eyes came in from the next room.

“I made you something to eat.” He went back into the room and brought out a messily made chicken sandwich, and placed it in front of Eponine. “Go on, eat up.” She looked up at him. “Ok it’s not a work of art but I’m sure it tastes alright.” She still looked at him. “What?”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Her brow furrowed.

He shrugged. “I’ll explain if you eat.” 

She reluctantly picked up the sandwich with her filthy fingers and nibbled. Then took a small bite. Then a bigger one. Then almost wolfed down the whole thing before thinking of what her father would say if she ate a whole sandwich to herself, and left half, perhaps for Azelma.

“Well?”

The man sat on the small table in front of her. “I found you in the alley just behind here absolutely soaked to the skin. I couldn’t leave you there really. Bad things happen to girls left in alleyways.” He raised his eyebrows. “My name’s Grantaire.”

She recognized the name. Marius had mentioned it. 

“So do you run a charity or something for gamines that you like the look of?” She clenched her jaw. After all, she trusted no one.

He frowned. “Look, I was only trying to help.”

“Well I don’t need your help, I’m fine on my own.” She stood up and threw the blanket off her.

“You could’ve gotten raped or murdered or really ill if I hadn’t picked you up.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to be some charity case just so you can big yourself up. Thanks, but I’ll see myself out.”

“You can’t just go.”

“I already am.”

“Wait.” He caught her arm at the door. “It’s not safe.”

She sighed. “Nothing is these days, get used to it bourgeois.”

He let go of her arm. “I don’t even know your name.”

She clicked her tongue. “…Esther.” She replied, using her middle name.

“Well, Esther, if you need anything you know where I am.”

“No I don’t, I passed out.”

“Yeah well I’m a drunk and I can still find my way alright.”

“You find me then.”

They stared a few moments longer. Words lingering on their lips. Unsure of the right thing to say.

He didn’t want her to go. She was mysterious and intrigued him. He sharp and dirty face was full of nightmares, the type of nightmares he loved. The nightmares that filled up the bottle he drained every day.

She hesitated too. But she was too much trouble, and he was expecting her to go. Her father would kill her for staying with a bourgeois and not robbing him scarce. She was a criminal after all. But he was too nice, she couldn’t, she really couldn’t stay. 

Yet she lusted for the warmth he offered her. Just for one night… She shook her head. She was being so selfish. She walked out the door and down the stairs. For a moment it was all over.

“Don’t go.” The words were out before Grantaire could stop himself.

Eponine froze and looked around in surprise. He bit his cheek in embarrassment. 

“I just want you to be safe. That’s why I hauled your arse up two flights of stairs. Please, just a night. It’s fucking freezing. Please don’t go out there.”

Eponine bit her lip and stared at the ground. He continued.

“I have a bitter heart, yet I made you a chicken sandwich.”  
“It was a crap sandwich.” She smiled a little, and so did he, but again she furrowed her brow. "I too have a bitter heart, it is ice and stone. Why would you let me in? I could steal all your money in the dead of the night.”

“Yet you’re trying to leave.”

She slowly looked up at him. Her voice was a scratched whisper. “I don’t want to go home.”

* * *

Neither could remember much of the night that followed, the memories were like dandelion fairies, dancing around their heads and hard to grasp. It was all a blur of chicken sandwiches and liquor and unkept promises and unfinished words and false names. Too full of smoke to think of the consequences. They had each other in their messy heartbreak and they tangled and became careless together. They fell in love for a few hours.  
But in the morning, when the light crept through the curtains like a curious child, she was alone in the troubled bed sheets. She wept to herself but in her mind truly never expected anything else. She was a liar after all.

She remembered to pick up half the chicken sandwich for Azelma.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions tweet me @eposetty or my tumblr is jehanparnasse.tumblr.com idk how to do this thanks???


End file.
